


It's You

by capthamm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Captain Swan - Freeform, Coffee Shop Owner Emma Swan, F/M, Hate to Love, Playlist, Slow Build Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, annoyance to lovers, killian making playlists for emma anonymously, so cute I wanna vomit, what's not to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 20:07:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capthamm/pseuds/capthamm
Summary: When Emma and Ruby decide to implement an anonymous Song Swap at their successful coffee shop, Emma's world is turned upside down by a relatable stranger. Meanwhile, Emma is navigating stormy waters with one of her more mysterious, and cocky, regulars, Killian Jones.





	1. Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! After your insane support for [P.S. If This is Austin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19055665/chapters/45264268), I was inspired to write a new journey for our lovely Captain Swan. 
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful betas, Annie and Jordan, for keeping me on track and giving me the inspiration to keep going!
> 
> . . . means a time jump!
> 
> No POV switches in this one, loves :)
> 
> Enjoy!

As she fails to iron out someone’s change that looks like it’s gone through the wash at least four times, Emma hears the unmistakable sound of her business partner’s dramatics. “If I have to look at one more espresso bean, I’m going to vomit.” 

Emma sighs. “Here, Ruby, I’ll just do it. Go take the next order.” It’s finals week at the local college and the amount of espresso ordered at their little coffee shop quadruples at this time of year without fail. “When you said you wanted to own a coffee shop, you had to have known espresso beans would be a package deal.”

“Yes, but I also knew you’d be there to take over in my time of need.” Ruby winks as she turns around to greet the customer waiting to order. Emma recognizes him as one of their older regulars and begins his latte-to-go before he’s even finished asking Ruby how her day is going. 

She hands an anxious-looking student their espresso and mindlessly froths the rest of the latte to perfection. If it didn’t sound so lame, she’d say being a barista is her calling. “Here you go, Mr. Evans, and take a cookie on your way out.” He smiles a thank you, snatching the last of Ruby’s magical peanut butter chocolate chip cookies on his way out the door. 

Ruby glances at the plate of free cookies on the far end of the counter, “We need to refill Santa’s cookie plate. I always forget towards the beginning of the seas—” 

Emma cuts her off, “I got it. I need a break anyway and there’s a fresh batch cooling on the stove.” As soon as she’s through the half-door that leads to the kitchen, she slouches against the counter and pulls out her phone. Quickly scrolling through any missed calls or texts and deeming none of them urgent, she grabs the cookie sheet and returns to work. Staring at the cookies as she rounds the corner, she all but tackles someone walking the other direction. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—” She looks up to see it’s another one of their regulars, this one too obnoxious to ignore—Killian Jones. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Just me? Here I was starting to think we were friends.” Emma rolls her eyes. 

“_Hardly _. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a cookie plate to refill and it seems you have a much more willing friend waiting for you at the back table.” She pretends she doesn’t notice the way his icy blue eyes sparkle in the soft light of the gas fireplace as he glances behind her. 

“It seems you’re right. Don’t forget your Christmas spirit, Swan. It _ is _ the most wonderful time of the year, after all.” He smirks and snatches a cookie from the tray before she can protest and casually makes his way to the table. 

Failing to pretend she’s not flustered, Emma huffs at his nonchalance, but continues placing cookies. Noticing how the counter has gotten significantly busier in her absence, she rushes to help Ruby. 

Before she knows it, it’s almost closing time. Emma does a quick sweep of the shop to see who’s still here and catches herself lingering when she gets to the back right corner. She does this more than she’s proud of, but who could blame her for stealing a longer look at a man like Killian Jones. 

Emma may have sworn off love but she’s not blind… or deaf. The way his hair uncontrollably flops over his forehead can only be described as unbearably adorable and she’s endeared by the way he twirls his pen between his fingers when he’s really concentrating. Those are just little things anyone can notice from afar, but anyone who has spent even a moment with Killian would tell you his most swoon-worthy feature, even more so than the slight ginger stubble or painfully blue eyes, is that English accent. The way even simple words like “sugar” sound like a melody is enough to make anyone melt. 

She quickly looks away, reminding herself that his beauty is only skin deep. She’s seen the way he is with women, not to mention the way they are with him. She’d be foolish to fall for the same boyish charms she’s been watching him utilize since the day she’d met him. Seeing as he’s her brother David’s best friend, she has had the displeasure of seeing Killian Jones in action on more than one occasion - more often than not, his advances being directed at herself. 

Still, she glances back towards the man in the corner now cleaning off his reading glasses with the hem of his jacket. The way his nose squints as he tries especially hard to remove a stubborn smudge from his glasses is almost charming… almost. It’s hard to imagine the Killian Jones she sneaks glances of in her coffee shop, and the one who not-so-subtly hits on her pretty much every time he’s had a sip of liquid courage, are the same person. She’s quickly reminded that he is, in fact, said person when the woman from before returns and Emma witnesses the furtive glances between the two of them. This wouldn’t be an issue had she not watched this same scene play out day after day, rarely with a return guest. Emma shakes her head and returns to cleaning up the rest of the counter. While she’d prefer it to stop altogether, her subconscious analysis of Killian Jones will have to be put on pause until later, with later most likely meaning the same time tomorrow. 

. . .

The rest of the week seemed to go by in a blur. The end of the year not only brought finals week but also an insane amount of bookkeeping. Ruby was fantastic when it came to customer service and marketing but always seemed to find herself otherwise occupied when it came to finances. This is why Emma found herself sitting alone in the back room of the coffee shop early Saturday morning when she heard a loud pounding on the front door. 

Emma instinctively reached for her keys, holding them tight between her knuckles. Rationally, she knew it was probably just a student hoping to sweet talk her into opening early, but she’s listened to enough _ My Favorite Murder _ to know you can never be too careful. As she walked around the corner warily and glanced towards the front door, she couldn’t help but recognize the set of blue eyes peeking through the window. Giving the eyeroll of the century and setting her keys on the counter, Emma rushed to the door, finally noticing the downpour he was standing in. She quickly unlocked the door and ushered the figure in question inside. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of me, Jones.”

“So sorry about that, love; it was not my intention––”

“Not your _ love _ and what do you think you’re doing here,” Emma glances down at her watch, “thirty minutes before we open? You're here almost everyday, so I’m positive you know the hours.”

“My apologies, lo-- Swan. I simply left my computer charger here last night, and unfortunately, I’m not worth much without it.”

“Ok, well, I’m finishing up some work in the back, but feel free to look for your charger. I didn’t notice anything when I was cleaning last night though.” Emma begins to turn and realizes she should probably be a bit nicer. “If you planned to stay here for your morning cup anyway, you’re welcome to hang out, otherwise leave through the backdoor so I can lock up.”

“Much obliged, m’lady. I’ll make myself right at home.”

“Not your-” she started to huff before abandoning the sentiment. “Whatever. Fine. _ Please _ do.” Emma knew the extra attitude at the end probably wasn’t necessary, but something about this man just twisted her gears. Without a second glance, she headed back into the office to organize where she left off. She’d never admit it, but she’s sort of glad Killian showed up when he did, or she would’ve been running behind for opening. Ruby doesn’t usually show up until an hour or two later and it's easy for Emma to get lost in the numbers. 

Emma gets her paperwork sorted, and ready for her to pick it back up later that evening, before she hurries to the front to set up for the day. As she pulls the pastries from the oven and starts the first pot of coffee, Emma forgets she’s not alone. She jumps a foot when he’s the one to finally break the silence. 

“Since it’s officially business hours now, can I order my usual?”

After catching her breath she simply nods, not needing to hear his order–– or accent. As she finishes up his coffee (one sugar, two creams) and bagel (asiago with vegetable cream cheese), she hears the bell signaling the start of the morning rush. 

It isn’t until Ruby gets in about an hour later that Emma even takes a breath. Between people rushing to work and not having the correct caffeine-to-blood ratio, the early morning crowd is brutal. She always looks forward to after 9:30am when just a few stragglers find their way into the shop and her and Ruby usually take some time to brainstorm. 

All morning, Ruby has been in a particularly cheery mood which only means one thing: she has an idea. When 10:00am rolls around, Emma can tell she’s practically bursting at the seams with excitement. “Alright, Ruby, out with it,” she says with light-hearted annoyance as she breaks off another piece of her double chocolate chip muffin. 

“Ok, get this: Song Swap.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.”  
  
Ruby rolls her eyes, “That’s because you haven’t even given me the chance to explain. Song Swap. It’s like those little library thingys Belle petitioned to get put up all over town, but with music playlists! We can have a rack or a folder or something and people can write or type or make CDs of their favorite songs from week to week. You put one in and then you can take one out.”

Emma can practically feel the vibration of Ruby’s excitement and it’s sort of contagious. She likes the idea, and it seems Ruby has thought out most of the logistics. Plus, it’s a great marketing tool for the coffee shop _ and _ costs practically nothing. 

“Alright, I like it. You’ll have to think up some sort of marketing scheme and I suppose we’ll have to kick it off. Maybe each week can have a suggested theme? Whatever you want to do, I’m game.”

Just as Ruby begins to start rattling off more logistics, another customer comes through the door and Emma jumps up to take their order. The girl looks young, definitely still a student, and sort of nervous. After taking her mocha frappe, the girl hesitantly looks around the shop. Emma can’t help the eye roll when she sees the girl’s eyes land on Killian and watches her beeline in his direction. Another new “love” for Killian Jones. This is the fifth one this week - not that Emma is counting; she is most definitely _ not _ \- and she’s sure she won’t be the last. 

Shaking the weird feeling that couldn’t possibly be envy from her mind, Emma rejoins Ruby at their table and continues to figure out the logistics of their new venture. It takes no time at all for them to settle on a launch date. Emma feels oddly confident as they return behind the counter for the impending lunchtime bustle. It’s clear Ruby is still bubbling over their new plan, and as the first lunch regular comes through the door, Emma smiles a compliment, “It’s a really good idea, Ruby, and it’s so simple… what could _ possibly _go wrong?”


	2. I Just Haven’t Met You Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Enjoy :)
> 
> *see notes at the end*

The new year seemed like the perfect time for them to start their new endeavor, and in what felt like no time at all, Emma and Ruby were prepping for the launch of their Song Swap later that night. They would have complimentary coffee, music themed baked goods, and a _ killer _local band. 

“The Facebook event says fifty people are coming and forty are maybes.” She informs her. “Do we even have enough for ninety people? I could make more cookies but I don’t think they’d be cool in time for me to frost them. Emma… earth to Emma! Are you listening to me?”

“Oh yes, sorry! Yeah, we’ll be fine. Cookies are first come first served and I doubled our normal order of coffee beans… sorry.” Emma had completely zoned out when the band walked into the shop. 

“He’s cute isn’t he,” Ruby smirked as Emma blushed, clearly caught in her child-like staring. 

“I may be a sworn shrew, but I’m not blind. What’s his name?”

“Grant or Graham or something like that. The group is called the Huntsmen and I personally believe it’s because they literally steal the hearts of every girl who watches them play,” Ruby jests.

Emma chuckles at Ruby’s ever-present knowledge of anyone who’s anyone on the local scene and her astute approval of the lead singer. Feeling confident, and if she’s being honest a bit punch drunk from many recent all-nighters, Emma decides to walk up to the musician on her own. 

“I used to play…” Emma stumbles over her words a bit and starts to ramble. “Well, I had a ukulele… once, but it’s the same concept I think.” The man chuckles and she swears she’s never heard a more innocent sound. 

“More or less. My name is Graham. Graham Hubert… and you are?”

“Oh my gosh! Yes, sorry, I’m Emma. Emma Swan.” 

“Swan as in _ Ruby Swan _? You’re my boss for the night then, huh?”

“I suppose so.” Emma feels a bit defeated, this man clearly not picking up on the vibes she’s trying to give off. “Well if you need anything, let me know!”

“A drink.” Graham seems to almost choke out. “I don’t mean coffee or coffee I guess works, too..” He takes a breath “Uh, I’m _ really _ not good at this.”

Emma chuckles at what she had assumed to be this suave man epically failing at asking her on a date. “Well I’ll be here all night so when you’re done with your set, I’ll take my break. How does that sound?”

Graham nods, but as he’s about to speak again, one of his bandmates calls him over for soundcheck. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He quickly walks up to her and kisses her on the cheek. At first, Emma is giddy with what feels like a teenage crush but then she’s _ completely _put-off. Shocked at how comfortable he seemed to be after one brief conversation, Emma regrets ever walking up to him in the first place. Suddenly she feels like, should she actually sit down and talk with him, she’d be into something way deeper than a possible friendship. 

Mentally shaking off any thoughts she had about Graham Hubert, Emma returns to work. She quickly finds mental solace and clarity in the consistency of her craft and is shocked when their launch party is ready to start in five minutes. The band is set and Emma is actively avoiding the attempts at eye contact from their lead hunk, the coffee is ready (along with some hot chocolate for the kids and herself), and the cookies look fantastic. Like clockwork, the guests start arriving. Emma is proud to see people entering with envelopes and CDs, and even the occasional cassette tape, all ready to partake in something she and her best friend created. 

Emma gets caught up in the fine details more than she’d like to admit, so she often reminds herself to sit back and breathe. She attempts to look at all she’s accomplished and take a moment to be proud of herself. She was about to make this one of those moments when a familiar voice speaks over the growing crowd. 

“You know, love, if you take a picture it’ll last longer.”

“Sorry to report, Jones, but I was far from staring at you.” 

“Oh, I know lass, just a tip for when you want to remember things you should be proud of. This is definitely one of those things.”

Emma is dumbfounded. Did he just sort of compliment her? Trying to keep all shock and awe below the surface, Emma responds meekly, “Oh, I-- Thank you.”

  
“Of course, Swan. This is impressive, and it seems I’m not the only one who’s noticed.” She glances to what he’s smirking at and finds Graham looking quite noticeably in her direction. “It looks like you’ve already been spoken for tonight.”

It’s that comment that makes Emma snap out of whatever alternate reality she had settled in, thinking her and Killian Jones could share a civil conversation. “Excuse me? Spoken for? The only one who “speaks for me” is _ me _, thank you very much.”

Killian flinches at her volume but remains entirely calm, “Oh, I’m _ very _ aware of that, Swan. I’m simply stating that it doesn’t seem like _ he _is.” There’s a hint of venom on his tongue as he refers to Graham and Emma can’t help but feel as though she’s offended him. 

“Killian, I’m sorry I––” She can’t help but notice the way his face drops and all confidence leaves his stance.

“Tis alright, Swan. Enjoy your night. I’m sure this will be a big success. I’ll drop off my playlist and be on my way.”  
  
“You brought a–– wait why would you leave so soon?” She desperately tries to cut the tension with jest, ”I usually have to kick you out.”   
  
“Believe it or not, I am quite perceptive, love. A man can tell when he is not wanted nor needed. I have an early start tomorrow anyway. I’ll see you then, Swan.” He walks the other direction, fading into the crowd before she can even form a response. She stands there for a bit, not caring that she’s noticeably dumbfounded. Emma thought she had the flirty, over-confident persona of Killian Jones down pat, but as of late, he’s become this magnetic enigma she can’t get out of her head.

... 

January all but disappeared, and during the first week of February, Emma can’t seem to keep her head on straight. Every time she turns around, it seems like she’s lost another day and she’s fallen more and more behind. Usually, her lack of proactive behavior would concern her, but her mind has lived elsewhere since the first round of playlists were put out for people to take. At first, Emma picked at random, her eyes were immediately drawn to the blue piece of paper shoved between the sheets of looseleaf and regular egg-white printer paper. What she didn’t expect was for this playlist to somehow make more sense to her than her own thoughts. Whoever compiled this list of songs clearly shared not just her taste in music, but some semblance of life experience, too. Normally, she would’ve brushed it off as coincidence - at first she did - but as the weeks went on and she selfishly pulled the blue sheet from the stack before anyone else could even have a chance to look it over, there seemed to be an eerie connection between her and the curator of what could only be described as heartfelt, musical stories. 

At first, she confronted Ruby, assuming her friend was trying to persuade her into continuing this whole grand plan longer than the three months previously agreed upon, but she knew her accusations were flawed at best–– the handwriting was all wrong and the meaning so much deeper than Ruby’s usually preferred mix of songs, which were more along the lines of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” and “Timber”. 

Emma wanted to figure out who the mystery person behind these meaningful playlists was, but her snooping was to no avail. She’d leave for the night and find the blue piece of paper slipped under the door in the morning. If she wasn’t off work when the person dropped it in the collection folder, she was just too busy at the counter and often forgot to keep an eye on it. The situation was usually more akin to the latter.

Despite their unknown identity, she’d come to feel a weird sort of kinship with the stranger behind the songs, which led to Emma deciding she wanted to return the favor about three weeks into the weird song-and-dance. Emma knew it was a long shot, but one rainy Sunday evening (the coffee shop closing much earlier on Sunday nights) she ran to the specialty paper store and picked up her own stack of blue paper. She began to handwrite her playlists and leave them in the folder, hoping her secret penpal would take the hint. 

Early one morning, Emma was finishing up the last of this week’s playlist while the first pot of coffee brewed. It was then that the bell signaling their first customer rang loudly through the empty café. 

“Good morning,” Emma looks up, ready to greet one of the many early morning regulars, “oh-- Killian. Good morning. Meeting someone early today?”

“Morning, Swan. No, not today. It seems I shall be starved for companionship this morning, kept from loneliness only by the company of my neverending cup o’ joe.” Killian flashes one of his cheeriest smiles but Emma immediately notices that this one doesn’t reach his eyes. She begins to feel bad for him, but then she realizes it’s probably because he was off his game this weekend and wasn’t able to woo a woman into spending Monday morning at his favorite coffee shop. 

“Well, Jones, I guess she’ll have to do,” Emma quips as she hands over his cup, cream, and sugar. 

“I ‘spose so, love. What’s that you’re writing so furiously?”

Emma tenses at his question because for some reason, it comes across more personal than it should, but then she realizes it’s got to be totally normal for the owners of the coffee shop to partake in their own event. She forces friendliness.

“Just my playlist for that event Ruby concocted under my nose.”

“Ah, yes, that. You know some may say you can learn a lot about a person through their choice in music, Swan.” Killian snatches the paper from under her pen and she sees him scan the page looking for some sort of common ground between them. She notices a subtle switch in his expression as he speaks up, “For example, ‘Everytime I Hear That Song’ by Brandi Carlile. A song about lost love and strength. You’re quite the open book, Swan.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Killian. This trying to bond, probably for David’s sake, but you don’t know the first thing about me.”  
  
“Well, just who are you, Emma?” He’s looking at her intensely now, but her usual need to squirm has evaporated and a surge of confidence finds its way to the surface. 

Emma smirks, snatching her playlist back and looking him square in the eyes, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She can’t help but tauntingly wave the paper in front of his face. Killian drops his gaze, readjusting his bag before grabbing his coffee cup and condiments. Emma is surprised when he turns around and makes eye contact once again. 

“Perhaps I would.” He says it with startling sincerity and then, as though a switch flips behind his eyes, immediately softens. “Thank you for the coffee. It’s the best cup in this bloody city and the best company any man could ask for.” He smiles softly, nodding towards the table he usually keeps occupied.

As he turns and walks away, he leaves Emma once again stunned and confused by his overwhelming persona. Knowing Killian Jones is like trying to put together a thousand-piece puzzle in the midst of a windstorm. Just when she thinks she’s got all the pieces, another one flies in and lands on her lap, causing Emma to rethink every previous outcome. Somehow, she’s stumbled into this pile of puzzle pieces that she has _ absolutely no idea _ what to do with and, if she’s being honest, pieces that she’s not entirely sure she wants anything to do with at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all like where this is going! Comment, kudos, follow me on twitter (@roiiyham), bookmark, or whatever your heart desires. Thanks for the support ♥️


	3. Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t get your hopes too high...
> 
> Thanks to my betas, Annie and Jordan. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Valentine’s Day is, oddly, one of Emma Swan’s favorite holidays. Owning a coffee shop gives her the unique position of watching love blossom as a totally independent third party. While she isn’t one to celebrate it herself, the month of February brings a multitude of new romances into her shop and she can’t help but find herself creating lives for these inconsequential strangers who briefly wandered their way into her bubble. 

Emma is watching a spectacularly awkward exchange between a couple that is clearly on their first date when she hears Ruby emerge from the backroom on her phone. 

“Yes, I know… Yes, I’ll ask her… I will be there… No, she won’t mind… I HAVE to go… Ok, yes, bye.” 

Emma raises an eyebrow at Ruby’s conversation knowing full well she is seconds away from doing a huge favor for her best friend.

“What do you need?”

“So… I may have a date and it may be when I was supposed to work Friday night…” 

Emma cuts Ruby off, “Done. I got it. Go!”

“Are you sure? It’s Valentine’s Day after all, and it’ll probably be busy. I don’t mind rescheduling. It’s all just a Hallmark holiday anyway and I––.”

“It’s fine, Ruby… honestly. It really won’t be _ that _ busy. Most people prefer a fancier date than our small little coffee shop anyway. It’ll probably be me and a few other spinsters.”

“You are literally the greatest and also _ not _ a spinster! I owe you the world. She could be _ the one _.”

Emma rolls her eyes, this is probably Ruby’s sixth “one”, but she admires her resilience. Emma’s heart has been broken one too many times and she’ll gladly just watch little romances grow from behind her coffee counter. 

. . . 

As expected, after 5pm the coffee shop is unusually slow for a Friday. Emma has spent the majority of the night absorbed in the new novel she’s reading and refilling a few diligent studiers’ never-ending cups of coffee. Entranced by a particularly riveting part of the story, she startles a bit too easily at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Rushing to finish the paragraph she’s on, Emma holds up a finger in acknowledgement and a silent plea for a moment of patience. She finally closes her book, satisfied with her stopping point and looks up into the sea blue eyes of none other than Killian Jones. She’s about to speak when he begins. “And here I would’ve thought a woman like you would be busy on a night like tonight…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jones?”

“Just that a lady as stunning as you would _ surely _ have date on Valentine’s day.”

Emma can’t help but roll her eyes at his obvious flirtations and holds up her book. “_ This _ is all the romance I need. Thanks anyway… _ but _ I might ask the same question of you, Jones. How is a man such as yourself alone tonight of all nights?”

“A man such as me? Was that a compliment, Swan?” Killian looks at her with mocking shock. 

“Settle down, Jones. I have eyes, but that’s all.” Emma flinches at her flippant confession but can’t help but notice the blush creeping up the side of his neck. 

“Right then, my regular, if you please, and one for you as well.” Emma notices the tension could easily be cut with a knife and he’s clearly trying to mince it so she dismisses his money and starts on their coffees. 

“This one is on me, I’ll be right over.” 

. . .

She’s not sure what made her join him at his table, but he didn’t decline her offer. It’s an hour later that they’re both working in a comfortable, and dare she say it, _ companionable _ silence. She’s completely enthralled by the climax of her novel and he seems to be editing something on his computer. She resists the urge to cover her ears when he speaks because somehow it seems monumentally loud as it breaks the quiet. “Do you mind if I change the playlist? No offense but yours is a bit sad for the day of love.” He chuckles and then inquires, ”Not a fan?”   
  
“Big fan actually, just not for me, and I figured anyone here would probably rather listen to sad love songs than sappy ones, ya know, because it’s Singles’ Awareness Day?” 

Killian‘s hearty laugh suddenly sounds like music to Emma and she mentally scolds herself for letting what could only be the magic of the holiday get to her. Trying to suppress whatever _ that _ was, Emma glances towards her book and redirects the conversation. “Fine, yeah. My phone is on the counter and Spotify is up. You can use one of mine or connect your own phone—“ She looks up to find he’s already halfway across the room and shakes her head. 

He returns quickly and she notices the music didn’t change. “Thought my playlist wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Eh, it’s growing on me, love. Besides,” he wiggles his phone at her, ”mine’s dead.”

She eyes him warily, but nods and returns to the safety of her story. 

The rest of their night is rather uneventful, largely due to the fact that Killian hasn’t said more than three words since he went to change the playlist. A few customers meander in and out while Emma shuffles back and forth from the counter to help them. Still, she always manages to find herself returning to the seat across from Killian. There’s something comforting about his presence. Emma’s been alone for so long that it’s refreshing to hold such a silence with someone who means nothing more than the cups of coffee between them. Soon enough, it’s only the two of them left in the coffee shop and Killian is packing up his computer and bringing his cup to the counter. 

“Sorry to overstay my welcome, Swan.”

Emma furrows her eyebrows in confusion, then glances at her watch, and realizes the shop was supposed to close about forty-five minutes ago. 

“Oh god I didn’t even realize what time it was. I haven’t even started cleaning–– you didn’t overstay your welcome. This was... nice.”  
  
“I assure you the pleasure was all mine, love. Since I feel partially at fault for your late start, could you use some help cleaning up?”   
  
Emma shakes her head, “No, thank you. I’ll be fine. It’ll only take me a few minutes and I have to sort out the stock in the back anyway.”   
  
“Alright, Swan, if you say so. Thanks for keeping this lonely man company tonight.”   
  
“Yeah well, singles––” 

Killian cuts her off, “Ah yes your dedication to the cause of singles’ awareness. Glad I could get you some time towards your community service.” He winks and then replaces his sarcastic smirk with a soft smile. “I’ll leave you to it then. Thank you again for the coffee... and the company.” He pauses for just a moment, the words hanging between them. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Swan.”

“Of course. Anything for one of my most loyal customers. Goodnight, Jones.” 

Emma smiles as she walks him to the door and locks up behind him. The sense of comfort she felt in his presence lingers the entirety of the time it takes to close up shop. Once she walks home, however, she feels the chilly onset of loneliness creep through her veins all over again. This was the first Valentine’s Day she spent with anyone more than a customer since Neal had… happened. Stumbling over her thoughts, she inadvertently admits that Killian Jones has indeed turned into more than just a customer. 

. . .

For the next week, it feels like her very own storm cloud is following Emma wherever she goes. From little mishaps like spilling Mr. Evans’s coffee all over the counter, to getting a ticket for being two minutes late to pay her parking fare, it seems like just about everything that could go wrong is definitely going wrong. Even her favorite playlist connoisseur is MIA this week. She’s checked the folder everyday at morning, afternoon, and night to no avail, much to her deeply-buried disappointment. She even resorted to checking the white papers for their handwriting to see if maybe her musical soulmate had run low on blue stock. 

When Friday rolls around, and half of their cocoa order arrives expired, _ and _ there is _ still _ no blue playlist to be found, Emma cashes in on the favor Ruby owes her and takes off early. As soon as she leaves the shop, Emma realizes she hasn’t been off this early in three years and now has absolutely no idea what to do. Rather than overthink it, and deciding to give fate one more chance to prove itself not to be a total jackass, she just walks. Wandering the streets of Manhattan has always made her feel at home. She doesn’t have the chance to do it much anymore, but it’s the closest she feels to Boston since graduating college. Her and Ruby looked everywhere in Boston for a good coffee shop location, but ultimately decided that a small shop right around the NYU campus would be a better business decision on all fronts. 

Emma misses Boston, but she’s slowly made the four blocks between the coffee shop and her apartment home. The best part about New York is that she can still see the water. Watching boats disappear into the horizon has been a comfort for her since the foster system. No matter where she was, it remained the perfect reminder that there is in fact more out there; that the world is wider than whatever town she was planted in that month. It’s not long before she finds herself on a bench at Chelsea Pier watching tourists rush onto the Staten Island Ferry like confused kids in a candy store. Laughing to herself she turns her eyes back to the horizon and finds someone has moved directly into her eye-line. “Ummm… excuse me? Could you move a little to the right or left?” 

“Oh, pardon me, love. I didn’t realize––” Before he even turns around Emma realizes who she, sort of rudely, told to move out of her way. 

“Killian! Oh I’m so sorry. It’s just you make a much better door than a window and I––”

“It’s quite alright, Swan. I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing. Sorry for interrupting.” Killian starts to walk away and Emma isn’t really sure what happened. 

“Wait… did I do something? I know I’m prickly, well, at least I am according to Elsa, and I didn’t mean to say something that offended you or whatever.” Emma glances down as she picks at the buttons on the sleeve of her red jacket, too nervous to see if he stopped. She’s not sure why she cares but sometimes her regulars feel like the only family she has, so when one stops showing up, she takes it sort of personally - especially when it comes to one who she sorta-kinda spent a whole night hanging out with. 

“Not a thing, love. See you tomorrow.”   
  
“Will I?” It came out harsher than she intended, sure, but she’s starting to get more than a little fed up and this week has already been crappy… what’s one more shitty addition? 

“Keeping tabs on me, Swan?”

“Not in the slightest, _ Jones _. I just notice when my regulars go missing is all.”

Killian smirks at her. “Whatever you say, Swan. Honestly, I’m flattered and, therefore, you’ll see me tomorrow… bright and early. You can count on it.” He winks and turns to walk away as Emma once again finds herself at a loss for words after yet another encounter with the elusive Killian Jones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh good old prickly Emma. Hope you’re enjoying the course of this journey. Thank you so much for your continued support and love for my story ❤️
> 
> More soon!


	4. Grow As We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance...

In the weeks following the incident down at Chelsea Pier, everything seemed to go back to normal. Actually, things seemed better than normal if Emma was being honest. Today, she’s completely focused on wrapping up the books for first quarter and Ruby is running the counter. Recently, Ruby has been busy helping her grandmother move, usually leaving Emma to run the coffee shop on her own. Emma’s really seemed to find a groove and she wants more than anything to say it has  _ absolutely nothing _ to do with Killian Jones’s sudden reappearance as a daily customer.

That, however, would be a totally blatant and bold-faced lie.

Since their awkward encounter at the park, they seem to have become… friends? Emma isn’t really sure what to call  _ it _ , nor is she sure if there is even an  _ it _ to speak of, but what she does know is that Killian hasn’t had a random girl come into the shop for him since that night and he’s slowly meandered over to the stools near the counter to spend most of his time instead of taking his usual seat. They talk about stupid stuff, really, but he keeps her company. She appreciates it and she suspects the feeling is mutual. 

The only downside is that it seems her secret playlist creator may be gone for good, seeing as there hasn’t been a new playlist since the week right before Valentine’s Day. She knows she shouldn’t have gotten so attached, but she really enjoyed feeling like there was someone out there who truly understood her, no strings attached, no caveats. She didn’t care that she didn’t know their name or even their gender, just that their experiences and hers were eerily aligned and she wasn’t alone. 

Emma is hunched over the last of the bookkeeping when Ruby yells her goodbye. She reluctantly heads out to the front of the store to take over for the last half hour. She’s closing the door behind her when she hears a familiar voice.

“Oh, captain, my captain! It seems the fair Lady Swan has come to commandeer the good ship.” 

Emma can’t help but laugh. Killian talks like a 300 year old Brit and it’s completely outrageous, but also sort of endearing in its own way.

“Unless you’re gonna ‘swab the deck’, keep the comments to yourself, Jones.”

“Aye, aye, m’lady.” Killian winks, giving a little salute, and then he turns back to his computer. They exist in silence as usual while Emma begins her shop-closing ritual. The only other people in the shop are two college students and a regular, all of whom start packing up the moment she begins counting the register. Emma noticed Killian has made a habit of staying past closing, but she doesn’t mind having someone else around this late at night. Not that she  _ needs  _ anyone to protect her, but she figures she could use a witness should anything sketchy take place. 

She’d never admit it to him, his head is plenty large on its own, but after weeks of closing the coffee shop together, she finds herself missing the days she doesn’t work late. Emma would  _ never  _ mention the way the days where Killian only quickly grabs his morning coffee seem to last forever. The more they talk, the more Emma seems to connect the dots between his suave ladies man persona and the quirky coffee shop regular. She feels comfortable around him and likes that she knows his favorite movie is  _ 500 Days of Summer _ (because ”love isn’t always what you think it is, Swan”) and that he prefers coffee over tea despite his British heritage. She’s learned that if he could, he’d want to be a songwriter but that journalism seemed like a more sturdy career and that he can in fact sing— although he has yet to do so for her. He’s picked up things about her, too, slowing chipping away at the walls she so skillfully constructed. She starts to wonder if that’s because he’s built enough of his own walls to know how they work. 

Zoning out on that particular thought, while trying to remove a rather stubborn stain from the hardwood, Emma realizes Killian is trying to get her attention. She holds up her finger, once again asking him for a bit of patience, and finishes the last line for the month. Slamming the book down, Emma excitedly hurries around the side of the counter to sit with her friend— at least that’s what she’s calling him now— and not so gracefully trips on the corner of the rug she’s been asking Ruby to take care of for weeks. Faster than she can register what’s happening, Killian is at her side. He grabs her arm and tries to help her stand. 

“Swan, are you ok?”

“I’m fine. Killian.” He’s looking at her like she got hit by a bus, not betrayed by a carpet thread and her own two feet. “Seriously, I’m  _ FINE _ .” He jumps back at her tone. Her fight or flight instincts kicked in the moment he touched her— she doesn’t need his help, she doesn’t  _ need  _ anyone. “Just  _ back off _ .”

Killian fully stands and takes a few steps backwards. Emma plants her hands down and pushes herself to her feet, choosing to ignore the slight look of relief that briefly washes over his face at her full mobility. “See, Jones. I’m fine. Thank you, but I got this.” 

She moves to turn away and retreat into the back room, her dignity already as bruised as her ass is going to be tomorrow, when Killian grabs her wrist. 

“What is it we’re doing here, Emma?”

_ Emma _ . He called her  _ Emma _ . She’s not sure she’s ever heard him call her that. 

“Well, I’m walking into the back room to finish closing up and you’re going to pack up so that you aren’t stuck in here for the night.”

“You know full well that’s not what I meant.”

“We,” Emma motions between the two of them, “are friends…” She furrows her brow before adding, “I think.”

“Are we? I mean sometimes, it feels like a friendship, sometimes it feels like—,” he cuts himself off and readjusts, “and other times, it feels like you can’t stand to be around for one more second.”

“We’re  _ friends _ , Killian.”

“Friends don’t feel this way about other friends—“

Emma rolls her eyes, “I don’t hate you, Jones. I told you… I’m  _ prickly. _ ”

“You know very well that that’s not what I meant.” 

Emma’s not sure how or when it happened but he’s standing two inches from her now. If she wanted to, and she tells herself definitely does  _ NOT _ want to, she could, theoretically, kiss him. That seems like it would take zero effort while also managing to be the hardest thing she’s ever done, so instead, she examines him as she slams another brick into her ever growing emotional wall. 

“You couldn’t handle it.” She scoffs, turning to avoid his very pointed gaze.

“Perhaps, Swan, you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” He clicks his “t” and it sets off a spark. 

She can’t stand the way he reads her, she can’t stand the way he  _ gets  _ her, and she most definitely cannot stand the way he thinks she would be the one who’s not able to handle it. So, she decides, she’s going to prove him wrong. 

Grabbing the collar of his leather jacket, the damn jacket being another thing she can’t stand about him, she kisses him with a force she didn’t know she had. It’s like years of emotion come spilling out of her lips and it only takes a second for him to return the sentiment. Not a moment later, she pulls back, looking slowly up at him to see if the positively cosmic reaction she just felt was mutual. She’s not sure how she feels when she looks up and he’s as equally fuckstruck as she is. He mutters against her lips, “that was…”

Another brick. 

“... a one time thing. I’m going in the back to secure the door and the safe. Don’t be here when I’m done.”

“As you wish.”

Emma leaves Killian standing in the middle of the coffee shop, telling herself she’s just slayed the dragon and now their friendship can resume its comfortable routine, but knowing her mind and her heart are singing different tunes. When those three little words finally hit her, she walks away quickly and ducks her head, forcing herself to suppress the little smile threatening her still-tingling lips.

. . .

When Emma told Killian not to be there when she finished up in the back, she only half expected him to listen, and she  _ definitely _ didn’t expect him not to show up at all to the coffee shop for the next few days. She felt like they needed to talk about what happened, or maybe they didn’t. Perhaps it meant nothing to either of them and letting it go into the void was going to be their best course of action. Besides, she had other things to focus on, like work, and, more importantly, her response to the sudden return of her playlist pen-pal. They appeared again suddenly after weeks of radio static–– no pun intended–– and now Emma feels the need to get back in the game. The songs this week were strangely… hopeful? Usually, the playlists were more reflective and spoke of past pain and current downfalls, but this one, lead by  _ The Words _ by Christina Perri, seem to speak of a renewed point of view on life. Maybe they found love, or got a new job, or just had a really good few weeks during which they didn’t feel the need to pour their emotions onto some blue paper for a random coffee shop attendee to pick up. Emma hopes they know that one person is hoarding all of their playlists, but is well aware of how unlikely that is. Her mystery musician probably assumes different people take them every time and is probably almost 100% NOT the one receiving her responses, but somehow her gut is telling her differently... so she keeps writing. 

Emma’s playlists, capping out at maybe three songs, are significantly shorter than her anonymous friend’s, which usually cap out around ten. Before the Song Swap, Emma didn’t really “listen” to music, she sort of just turned it on in the background without paying much attention to the lyrics and what they may have meant. Now that she has to have  _ at least _ one song per week, she tries to be more purposeful in her listening and has found it to be an outlet for her. 

Once finished scribbling down her silent message for the week, Emma walks over to the folder and casually slips her paper between a bedazzled cd case and a torn sheet of looseleaf. She’s always been pleasantly surprised by the range of submissions they receive and she softly rakes the tips of her fingers over the sheets of playlists and smiles at what her and Ruby created–– not just the song swap, but the coffee shop as a whole. She jumps when she feels someone tap her on the shoulder. “Shit––”

“Sorry, love.”   
  
“Killian,” Emma sighs softly realizing she can relax in his comfortable presence. Immediately retreating once again at this connection she keeps feeling whenever she’s around him, Emma snaps back to reality, “Sorry, I was just––”   
  
“Taking in your good work… I know. Didn’t peg you as the one selecting bedazzled cd case playlists though.” 

Emma snorts, “I’m not. Just admiring the range of music that ends up in this folder each week.”

“Ah, yes. It is quite impressive, Swan.” Killian reaches into the folder and grabs a sheet of paper–– her sheet of paper. “Personally, I’m partial to blue.” Killian winks and turns around to head back to his table where yet another new girl is waiting for him. 

Emma is full of mixed feelings from the fact he chose her playlist–– without putting in his own which is a total disregard for the rules–– and that he seems to have gone back to his old ways of bringing girls here. She rolls her eyes and walks back to the counter to take orders for the long line of people which seems to have accumulated since she walked over to submit her playlist only to watch it get snatched by the one person she least expected. Silently, Emma makes a pact to be more vigilant about whose putting playlists in the folder and whose taking them out. Mostly to make sure there aren’t other rule breakers–– like Killian–– but also to finally, once and for all, learn the identity of the stranger who feels way too much like her best friend. 

… 

Three weeks later and Emma still isn’t  _ any  _ closer to figuring out who Blue is (she’s resorted to a nickname because playlist pen pal was taking up too much of her mental word count), Killian is back to entertaining a new college woman practically every day, while simultaneously still mostly ignoring her existence. It’s not that she  _ cares _ just that she thought they were sort of friends and then they kissed, or she kissed him— he did kiss back… and provoke her— but now they’re barely acquaintances. They share pleasantries as she makes his coffee each morning but he quickly rushes off to his usual table to wait for or join whichever woman he’s meeting that day. 

This morning was no different, quick chat about the weather and then scurry in the opposite direction, but Emma had seen enough when he returned sometime after lunch and met with a completely different woman than the one from that morning. Unable to hold her tongue, Emma followed the naive, red-haired girl (she couldn’t be more than 19) into the bathroom. Casually checking herself in the mirror and feigning the appearance that she just needed to reapply her makeup, she waits for the girl to emerge from the stall. Smiling, Emma speaks over the rush of water from the faucet, “Your boyfriend is cute, but you could do much better.”

“I’m sorry— how do you know my boyfriend?”

“I mean, you’ve been sitting with him all afternoon— same side of the booth, huddled over the computer like it shares the world’s secrets— it wasn’t that hard to decipher. All I’m saying is he spends a lot of time in this coffee shop and it’s not spent with you.” Emma is proud of herself and her attempt to help this girl out of an unfaithful relationship. 

When she turns to look at her, the girls face, initially twisted with confusion, relaxes as realization dawns, “Ohhhhh, you think Killian is my  _ date _ ?!” The young girl starts laughing. “I sure hope he is helping more people than just me otherwise he wouldn’t run much of a business.”

“Im sorry, a business?”

“Yeah! Killian is a graduate student at NYU for Journalism. He graduated awhile back with his degree in English and was a freelance editor for a bit and now he edits undergrad papers on the side to help pay tuition. I know how expensive out of state is so I can’t imagine out of country! Although, I’m not sure they make you pay that if you’ve been here long enough. I’m not really sure how any of it works to be honest...” The girl, Anna if the name embroidered into her purse is an indication, keeps on rambling as Emma processes what she just heard. “... but anyway Killian is  _ not _ my boyfriend. My boyfriend’s name is Kris and Killian actually helps him too just not as often ‘cause he’s not a journalism major. Killian is like the most well known editor on campus. Are y’all friends?” 

Emma, still stunned by the amount this woman can talk without taking a breath, mutters, “Oh, uh, kinda.” 

“Lucky you, he’s a great guy.” Anna smiles at her and turns around to head back to her table. Emma scoffs and takes a second to look in the mirror, she doesn’t  _ feel  _ lucky, she  _ feels  _ like an asshole. Deciding she’ll talk to Killian about her misconception, and her overall lack of knowledge about his day-to-day life outside of this coffee shop, she returns to the front of the store.

. . .

An hour or so later, Anna draws Emma’s attention from her new book and gives a small wave as she heads towards the front door. Upon Emma’s return of her farewell, Anna nods towards the front table. When Emma turns her head towards where Anna is signaling, she sees Killian standing near the Song Swap. She sort of smiles, realizing he does in fact follow the rules. Naturally, her eyes shift to what he’s holding, and like being hit with a ton of bricks, the comfortable reality she’s built shatters as quickly as her mug falling against the hardwood floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in the aftermath. Just remember that they ALWAYS get their happy beginning and it ALWAYS takes a ton of work.
> 
> Huge thank you to my betas Jordan and Annie for helping make this chapter cohesive. 
> 
> I'm so grateful for your continued support <3 much love!


	5. Manhattan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter y’all! But don’t worry, I’ve already got a new idea up my sleeve. Thank you thank you thank you thank you for supporting my stories and making me feel heard. Please enjoy!

Emma feels like everything is happening underwater when Killian whips his head around at the sound of her broken mug. “Swan.” It’s not a question, it's whispered, and even in the loud coffee shop, it’s the only sound Emma can hear right now. 

“It’s you…”

Killian is walking towards her and she can’t tell if he’s in slow motion or running at lightning speed. “Emma… I–” 

She can’t do this. Stepping over the shards of the splintered mug, Emma walks past him not entirely sure if she’s hoping he’ll catch the hint and follow along or not. Once outside she cuts right and walks towards the side alley hoping for a little bit of privacy. When she turns around, she’s not surprised to see Killian round the corner. She tries to keep her emotions level, but she can feel the tears start to sting behind her eyes.

“You knew.”

“Swan, I don’t––”

“Don’t lie to me, please don’t lie to me.”

He looks taken aback by her assumption. “I couldn‘t— I knew, only recently, but I knew. I didn’t–– not when we started.”

“When?” Emma feels numb. She shouldn’t be mad at him, she’s not sure she is, but for some reason everything is coming out cold. 

“Valentine’s Day… when I was going to change the playlist I saw your Spotify and I––”

“Saw my playlists.”

“Aye.” Emma runs her hands over her face. She knows Killian is uncomfortable, he’s playing with the sleeve of his jacket, the same way she does. 

“So what now?” It’s an unfair question but it’s the only thing she can think to ask. She isn’t sure what she expected to happen but she certainly didn’t think he’d begin to walk towards her. 

“This is up to you, love.” He’s about six inches from her now and Emma can’t seem to catch her breath. 

“I––” Killian nods, reassuring her of everything her brain knows but her heart won’t let her feel. “Killian, I can't.”

He steps back as Emma brushes past him. She should turn around and take it all back but suddenly it feels like her walls are being reinforced with steel lining and the only thing she can do is walk away. Killian leaves the coffee shop as quickly as possible, stopping only to retrieve the playlist she saw him submit only minutes earlier. He avoids her gaze as he walks out the door, and despite it being at her request, she can’t help but feeling like she’s been abandoned once more. 

…

She doesn’t see Killian at the shop for the next few days, and when he does show up, it’s only to work with his students. The first time they make eye contact, it’s like lightning, and Emma can’t help but notice that he feels it too. He returns a sad smile and any lingering electricity between them is extinguished. As he walks to his booth, she tries to think of something to say but falls flat. 

Later that night she texts Ruby and asks for a few days off. She needs to clear her head and thinks maybe a long weekend could do that–– basically, she hopes, some time away from Killian should do it. 

Reorganizing the folder of playlists became part of their closing ritual not long after the program took off. Emma always enjoyed silently combing through the submissions and often found herself chuckling at the wide array of genres. Tonight she paused on a particularly diverse playlist consisting of everything from Mozart to Pitbull. As she returns it neatly to the pile, she notices a familiar blue corner sticking out of the back of the folder. Assuming it was an old playlist that she somehow missed, or someone else who’d stolen the idea of blue paper, she grabs the sheet to turn it upright. Emma scans the mostly empty sheet of paper and sees it only contains one song. Initially she thought it may have been one of her pitiful attempts at a playlist that Killian had likely ignored, but she recognizes the gorgeous script as only belonging to her no longer anonymous friend. 

_ Manhattan by Sara Barielles  _

Emma isn’t familiar with the song so she quickly rushes over to her phone, still plugged into the shop’s speaker system, and searches the Spotify library. She knows clicking play will send her deeper into this than she ever expected but her gut continues to tell her he was worth the risk. 

_ You can have Manhattan _ __   
_ I'll settle for the beach _ __   
_ And sunsets facing westward with _ _   
_ __ Sand beneath my feet

_ I'll wish this away _ __   
_ Just missing the days _ _   
_ __ When I was one half of two

_ You can have Manhattan _

_ 'Cause I can't have you _

It didn’t take more than a minute into the song to realize what was happening. Frantically finishing up her tasks and locking the door behind her, Emma runs. This time she doesn’t run away, she ignores the cognitive dissonance between her brain and her heart, she runs towards Killian, begging the universe to lend her a hand. She doesn’t know where he lives but she remembers their brief encounter at Chelsea Pier, and in no time ends up there, sweating and out of breath.

She sees him almost immediately. His dark clothing silhouetted against the orange New York sunset. She takes a moment to watch him, to actually see him for what feels like the first time in her life, before walking over to join him. He doesn’t even flinch as she settles in beside him on the railing, looking out over the skyline as the lights begin to illuminate with the promise of the impending nightfall. They stand in silence for a few moments before Emma decides she’s the one who needs to take the leap, “I’m not good at things like this.”

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean, Swan. I don’t recall asking you to be good at anything.”

Emma huffs; she deserves this but it doesn’t make it less frustrating. “Honestly, Killian I’m not even good at friendship and ambiguous feelings that are muddled with personalized playlists make it 1000 times more difficult.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just continues to look at the skyline like he’s silently begging it to swallow him whole. 

“I would’ve done the exact same thing.”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it, Swan? And for the record, this did not go in the direction I was hoping for. I would’ve acted much differently than yourself in that alley.”

“How is the possible? With the pain life’s thrown at you and your overwhelming tendency to grab the short straw, how do you have the guts to jump in feet first?”

“Don’t you know, Emma?” He turns to face her now and she takes a second to take in the pain and frustration which seems to have aged his face twenty years. Her heart aches as she realizes what she’s put him through and she can barely speak. She answers his mostly rhetorical question with a slight shake of her head. “It’s you. I’m not scared that I won’t find my fairytale happy ending, because I already found you. Besides, when two people who always grab the short straw pair up, a short straw becomes just a straw.”

Emma chuckles but can feel the tears inching down her cheeks. “You’ve got a point there, Jones… I’m—“

“You don’t have to apologize, for you’ve done nothing wrong, love. I like your walls, and I like being the one who gets to tear them down. I know we’ve only been kinda-friends for one or two months but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Take your time. I’ll be here when you come around.” He smiles one of those smiles that makes Emma’s spine tingle and gets up to leave. 

“I can’t––” Emma feels like every bit of pain she’s ever pushed down bubbling to the surface. “You don’t know me. You may understand but you’re getting damaged goods. I’ve lost–– everything…”

“Swan…”

“I can’t lose you too.” Emma can’t believe she said it. She doesn’t know when these feelings developed and it’s not love but there’s this promise of more that she finds only in the presence of this confusing man and she’s tried to fight it but she can’t anymore… she doesn’t want to. 

Killian moves closer. “Well, love, I’m in this… whatever it is… for the long haul.” He’s inches from her now. Brushing a stray curl from her cheek and wiping a tear away with his thumb he whispers, “That is, if you’ll have me… it’s your choice, Emma.”

Before she can think and start to rebuild her walls Emma leans forward and places a gentle kiss to Killian’s lips. She breaks away for a second, resting her forehead against his and willing Killian to make his choice. She doesn’t have to wonder long. Before she can even catch her breath, he surges forward in a passionate kiss rivaled only by their first all those weeks ago in her coffee shop. 

Needing to come up for air, Emma shyly bites her lip. Panic immediately starts to boil in her stomach. She doesn’t do  _ this.  _ She doesn’t date or even kiss guys more than once, especially handsome, British men who are best friends with her brother and frequent her business. The need to run overwhelms her but as she turns, Killian grabs her wrist. Scared to make eye contact, but not stupid enough to avoid it and force him to touch her cheek again, she glances up. All she sees is panic and doubt. It’s as if the feeling in her stomach is mirrored in his stormy blue eyes. He mutters a soft “please” but the anguish on his face says more than words ever could. 

Emma knows she has to make a decision. She knows Killian. While they haven’t gotten into the gory details, each knows enough about the other’s past to know what taking this step means. She’s not sure she’s ready, but she’s not sure she’ll ever be. Emma stares at Killian, her brain hoping to force her feet in the opposite direction but her heart drawn to the mysterious man who has become her best friend. Her memories with him flood her vision: the late nights laughing over awkward first dates, switching off who picks the song over the speaker while he works and she sweeps... the night they danced:

_ Killian wrestles Emma’s phone from her, adamant that her forcing him to listen to The Spice Girls was perfect cause for him to get two song choices in a row. Defeated, Emma hands him the phone and begs for something from this decade. She finds his old soul endearing, but sometimes she prefers today’s top 40 over 1960’s. She pauses when the song begins, its familiarity washing over her but the name not immediately coming to mind. As soon as the signer begins, Emma realizes it’s Taylor Swift’s newest song “Lover”. She chuckles to herself, “Didn’t peg you as a Swiftie, Jones.” _

_ “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Swan, but you should know that I love a good songwriter.” _

_ Emma, unable to argue, nods and returns to her work. She startles when she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns to find Killian half bent at the waist. “What’re you doing, Jones?” _

_ “May I?” _

_ “Sweep? Be my guest. It’s about time you start earning your—“ She’s cut off by Killian taking the broom and setting it against the counter.  _

_ “No, Swan. A dance.” _

_ “I don’t know how—“ He cuts her off once more by effortlessly pulling her into his arms. It’s a close hold which forces her to lay her head on his chest.  _

_ “Nonsense. You’re doing quite well. Besides, there’s only one rule.” he removes his hand from her waist to tilt her chin towards him, “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” _

_ Any retort that Emma could possibly concoct is stuck in her throat. She slowly sways with him, not noticing when the next song begins until he sweetly pulls away to kiss the top of her hand and returns to his usual spot at the counter.  _

...and the playlists. Like a tidal wave, it hits her. This wasn’t out of nowhere, not in the slightest. She’s been slowly falling for this man for months. Not only in their physically shared moments, but through the playlists. Through the months of back and forth she’s learned more about him, and him of her, than anyone before. The music told their stories and they shared them unashamed due to the anonymity. Suddenly the second wave hits…

_ “Just who are you, Swan.” _

_ “Wouldn’t you like to know?” _

_ “Perhaps I would.” _

His anonymity has been gone for awhile now, yet he continued to share, to put his heart on the line. The kiss wasn’t out of nowhere, and the playlists felt like the greatest form of relationship foreplay. He already took the leap, it was Emma’s turn. 

She turns on her heels and wiggles her wrist from his hand to interlace their fingers. 

“The Words.”

“I’m sorry, love. You’ll have to be more specific. As you’ve probably gathered, I tend to have a LOT of words.” He smirks. 

“Not  _ your _ words. The Words… by Christina Perri…”

“Ahh yes, my first attempt.”

“It was hardly your first.” Emma glances up at him with a sarcastic eye roll. 

“My first in the playlists. I felt this gravity between us… I needed to know if you felt it too.”

“I did, but I was frantically trying to find a zero gravity button somewhere. I’m not good with feelings, or relationships, or whatever this is. My track record is… sub-par.”

“Likewise, darling. Maybe we can be sub-par together? I never much liked golf anyway. Why would someone spend their day doing  _ that _ when football and rugby exist?”

Emma can’t help but chuckle at his innate ability to ALWAYS bring the conversation back to soccer. “I think I’d like that.”

“How about some hot chocolate… with cinnamon?”

She smiles at his attention to detail. She doesn’t love him, at least not yet, but moments like this allow her to feel like turning towards him was the right decision. “I’d like that.”

“I know a  _ great  _ place. Red Sparrow or something like that…” He’s smiling now, almost as though his confidence returns a bit more each second she isn’t running in the opposite direction. 

“Ha ha very funny. From what I hear, they’re already closed for the night.”

“Ah yes something about the owner kicking everyone out and then running down the street.”

“Something like that.”

“Well another time then.” He smiles softly, clearly not wanting to push her too far and scare her away. 

Emma looks down at her fingers. “Well I happen to know the owner,” glancing up she sees him give an encouraging eyebrow raise, “and I don’t think she’d mind  _ one  _ cup.”

Killian laughs holding out his arm, once again reminding her he acts at least 300 years old and asks hesitantly, “Well then… may I?”

Her mind is once again brought back to the night they danced and how her alarm bells rung every which way. She waits for the signal to run, but nothing comes. 

No alarms, no panic, no doubt.

She takes his arm and they walk in their usual comfortable silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’re happy with their journey. Just a small bit to wrap it up coming soon! Thank you again for being my total inspiration!


	6. A Million Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you endlessly for following along <3

Emma looks back on that day often. Sometimes she looks around and has a hard time believing this is her life. It’s been six years since she and Ruby started the Song Swap and while that has come and gone, it’s impact is ever present for Emma. 

She smiles up at Killian from the counter as he sits with Hope at _ their _table. She’s still too young to understand tradition, but Hope seems to know exactly where to sit each time Killian brings her for hot chocolate and a treat. She knew they’d be here today, it’s “Hot Chocolate Thursdays” as coined by Killian after that first night. And as soon as Hope was old enough to participate, she joined in too. The first year was hard, Emma would work and Killian kept Hope home, ever worried she’d catch some insane disease from the college students who frequented the cafe. She missed them everyday. Although, she found she was happy she missed them. A ghost from her past once told her that you’ve found home when you leave and just miss it; Killian, and later Hope, became her home. 

They sort of built their life backwards but that seemed to fit their entire relationship. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to get married, they talked about it a lot, but when they found out Hope was on the way, nothing else seemed to matter. A ring on her finger suddenly wasn’t the only way for Killian to prove he was in fact in this for the long haul. 

After the pregnancy was confirmed, things seemed to move in fast forward. Killian asked her to move in with him by texting her the Spotify link to Ben Platt’s “Share Your Address” with the praying hands emoji. To anyone else it may seem cowardly but Killian uses songs to bookmark pretty much any important moment in their relationship. He didn’t say “I love you” in the normal way, but rather by writing _ To Make You Feel My Love (Ingrid Michaelson version) _on a napkin and leaving it on the counter, and when he accidentally opened the gender reveal letter thinking it was part of their normal mail, “My Little Girl” by Tim McGraw was playing throughout their apartment when she got home. She’d be lying if she said she didn't realize that Killian knows breaking news or big moments to her this way gave her a convenient out if she started to hear those alarm bells again. She appreciates it despite the fact that she hasn’t heard them since finding Killian. 

Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice that Killian is standing at the counter patiently waiting for her to join the same dimension again. 

“Welcome back, love.” He winks, happy to have caught her daydreaming. 

“Hello, Jones, how can I help you?” The old nickname almost seems formal at this point, but still uses it from time to time. 

“Well, _ Swan, _ it seems the little lass requires another cup of hot chocolate and probably wouldn’t say no to some time with her mum.”

Emma is positive that hearing Killian call Hope his myriad of pet names will never get old. “I’m sure she does. Wanna take this one?” Killian nods as Emma walks over to the table. She grabs a crayon and mindlessly starts coloring the top corner of Hope’s art piece while asking about her day. She responds animatedly detailing every single fish her and Killian saw at the aquarium. 

Killian is a fantastic dad. Everyday he and Hope share some sort of whirlwind adventure. They’re thick as thieves but Emma wouldn’t have it any other way. She knows the aquarium is their favorite place to go (so much so that she bought them all season passes for Christmas last year) so she isn’t surprised they spent the day there once again. 

Killian walks up with their cups handing the smallest cup to Hope and Emma her hot cocoa. 

“Heyyyyy… Daddy there’s nothing _ in _ here.” Hope complains as she shakes the cup ferociously. “You forgot the _ hot chocolate _.”

Killian looks flustered as he quickly grabs the seemingly empty to-go cup from Hope. Emma eyes him warily but he scratches behind his ear with an innocent smirk so she inspects her hot chocolate. “Here, Hope, you can have some of—“

Emma’s words get caught in her throat as she turns the cup over to find Killian’s perfect script scrawled across the side: _ Marry Me (Train). _

“Jones…”

“I mean _ ideally _ that would be your name, yes, but I understand if you’re attached to Sw—“ Before he could finish his sentence she rounded the table, grabbing each side of his face, and peppering him with kisses intermittently throwing in a slew of yeses. 

Killian chuckles as he grabs her shoulders, “Are you sure? You haven’t even seen the ring…” Realization dawns on Emma as she reaches for Hope’s “empty” cup. She pops the top to find the most beautiful engagement ring she’s ever seen.

Hope smiles up at her dad, “Does this mean Mommy knows we’re getting married now?” Emma laughs as Killian pulls Hope into his lap. 

“Yes, Mommy is in on our secret now, little love.”

“Oh thank gosh! Can I get some hot chocolate now too?”

“I’ll take care of that.” Emma’s head whips around at the sound of a fourth voice. 

“Ruby?! It’s your day off?!”

“Did you really think I would let you work the rest of your shift after hearing what Killian had planned? Go home, Emma… celebrate a little.” Ruby winks as she walks to get Hope her hot chocolate. Hope quickly trails in “Aunt Ruby’s” footsteps rattling off something about extra whip cream. 

Emma turns to Killian. “Is this real?”

“I sure hope so otherwise I was swindled and Killian Jones is _ never _swindl—“

“I didn’t mean the diamonds, _ Killian _. I meant this,” Emma motions towards nothing specifically but lands her eyes on Hope, “our life. Everything.”

“I know, darling, I have to pinch myself sometimes too.” He leans in closer, gently grabbing Emma’s chin, and places a soft peck to her lips. 

“I love you, Jones.”

“And I you, Swan.”

“And me!” Hope jumps into Killians lap with a hot chocolate that is more whip cream than chocolate and Emma quickly walks to the back to pack up her things so they can head home… together. 

. . .

Emma grabs Liam from his crib as she hears an excited screech from Hope in the next room over. Being almost 2, Liam is getting too big for their early morning cuddles sessions but Emma is soaking up every last second. She misses when Hope would look at her with sleepy eyes and beg to be carried. Now 6, all she does is run and yell and play. The only one who can ever slow her down is her dad and even _ he’s _no match for the child sometimes. Emma hold Liam close as she hums a nondescript tune; savoring the last few seconds before—

“Moooommm!!!!!”

With a thud, Hope rams into Emma’s knee cap, hugging her close. 

“Hope— don’t— I’m sorry, love.” Killian comes sprinting behind her, clearly trying to help preserve every last second of Emma’s peaceful morning. Emma returns a grateful smile and hands Liam over to Killian, who seems to be dressed like some sort of pirate. Killian discards of the plastic hook in his left hand, and takes hold of his son. 

Emma smirks and shakes her head as she kneels down to level with Hope. “And what adventures is the fearless Hope Jones up to today?” Hope’s pirate costume is a bit more frilly but she assured Emma upon purchasing that “it’ll do for making vermen walk the plank and plundering”. Emma had to stifle a laugh at how thoroughly Killian’s love of all things nautical and pirate had rubbed off on their daughter. 

“That’s _ Captain _ Hope Jones to you, Mom.”

Emma laughs and begins to tickle her tiny pirate captain when she hears the doorbell. Killian looks up at her from where he was helping change Liam while listening to a very detailed dream about Paw Patrol, “Were you expecting anyone, darling?”

“Mary Margaret and David aren't supposed to be here until noon… and I know they’re always early but 5 hours seems a bit extreme even for them. I’ll get it.” Killian nods as he finishes pulling on Liam’s socks. 

Emma wanders into the living room to unlock the front door. As she opens it, she feels like all the air has left her lungs. 

“Hey Ems.”

“What are you doing here?”

Neal smirks, innocent and doughy eyed as ever, “Now is that anyway to welcome an old friend?”

“_ Friends _ don’t abandon each other in prison and then disappear for 20 years. So, no, that’s _ not _how I greet my friends.”

“Can I at least come in? It’s freezing out here, Ems.”

“Don’t _ call _ me that. How did you even find me?!”

“Swan isn’t the most common surname and you’re pretty predictable. It was rather easy just to—“

“Emma, who’s this?” Emma had been so rattled that she didn’t realize Killian had walked up behind her. He must have sensed her unease because the kids are nowhere to be found (besides the muffled sound of Jake and the Neverland Pirates), and his hand is on her waist. 

“Oh wow, Ems. Shacked up nicely, didn't we? Never pegged you for the ‘settling down’ type.” Any hint of sweetness in Neal’s voice had been replaced with dripping sarcasm and venomous jealousy. 

“Neal, this is my _ husband _, Killian.” She felt Killian tense at the mention of Neal’s name; her demons long since shared between them. “Killian… this is Neal.”

Killian’s jaw clenches as he reaches out his hand. “I’d say pleasure, but I prefer honesty.”

Neal shakes Killian’s outstretched obligation warily, “Likewise, I’m sure. Look, Ems, sorry to barge in on you like this. Your surname still came up as Swan so I thought you’d be here _ alone _.” The look he shoots Killian is deadly. “I’ll be off then. Have a nice life.”

“I haven’t been alone in a long time, Neal. No thanks to you.” With that Emma shuts the door, leaving Neal slightly dumbfounded on the stoop. The Emma he knew never would’ve fought back, or so much as contradicted him. 

“Are you ok, love?” Killian grabs each side of her face as his eyes search hers; reading her as clearly as ever. “Of course you are, you’re Emma mother-forking-Swan.” He smiles at her as she giggles at his use of The Good Place’s censoring (seriously a godsend when children are around). 

“Surprisingly, yes. I’m totally and completely fine. He can’t shake me anymore.”

“Not surprising in the least, Swan. You’re a bloody superhero.”

“It’s Jones now, and thank you.” She leans up to peck his lips. He pulls away quickly. 

“Ah yes, old habits die hard I suppose.” He returns a second, third, and fourth kiss as they walk back to the playroom to rangle their crew. She stops him just short of the door. 

“You by A Great Big World.”

“Hmm, not sure I’m familiar with that one, love.”

She reaches for her phone, begging the child gods that they give her two more seconds of them time. She scrolls to the song and skips forward to right before the chorus…

_ I never could imagine _

_ how my life would change _

_ the day you came _

_ And how all my fears and worries _

_ would just wash away _

_ I never saw it coming _

_ And one day all of a sudden _

_ There was you, you, you, you _

_ I don't have to live without you anymore_

… she pauses the song with tears in her eyes. Neal can’t shake her anymore but he did remind her of who she was and who she wants to be. He was a stark reminder of how life could’ve been and how lucky she is that, of all the coffee shops in NYC, the man in front of her chose to wander into hers. 

Killian kisses her forehead as though he’s read her mind. “I love you, and am forever thanking fate for you, too.”

Emma smiles. From watching new love blossom alone at the coffee counter to falling more and more in love with her _ family _every single day, she couldn’t have imagined this would’ve been her future— two perfect kids, a good home, a thriving coffee shop, and Killian. If you had told her the same man she dissected from afar would be her soulmate she would’ve laughed in your face. But somehow, through anonymous playlists, brick walls, and proposals on coffee mugs, Killian Jones became the most important human in her life and she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks. I hope you're happy with their journey and how they ended up! I really cannot express the gratitude I have for ya'll. Thank you from the bottom of my heart <3
> 
> Leave kudos, comments, or come chat with me on twitter @roiiyham!
> 
> Much love... until next time xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a teaser, probably will be a bit before I update again but PLEASE let me know what you think through kudos, comments, or on my *new* twitter [@roiiyham](https://twitter.com/roIIyham). 
> 
> So excited to share this story with ya'll <3


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